


Right Within Your Heart

by ShowMeAHero



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2551016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patroclus is in the Christmas spirit. Achilles needs some urging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Within Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Before you can ask, Lysandra (which is actually a Greek name), or Andy, is Briseis' daughter, and Patroclus' biological daughter. When Briseis wanted a child, but didn't want to get married, Patroclus offered to let her use his syrup. You know what I'm saying. Anyways, they didn't date, but that's the story.
> 
> I'm procrastinating NaNoWriMo already.
> 
> Title taken from "It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas" by Bing Crosby.

_December 1st_

“It’s _barely_ December,” Achilles pointed out when Patroclus arrived at home with a fir tree. Patroclus raised an eyebrow, and Achilles came to the car anyways to help him untie the tree from the roof.

“‘Tis the season,” Patroclus replied, untying one of the knots. Achilles half-sighed, half-laughed, pulling the knots apart on his side. Patroclus scrambled up onto the roof to push the tree off.

“Do we even have ornaments?” Achilles asked, helping the tree slide off instead of it falling all at once. Patroclus held tight to the top, clearly clueless as to what they were doing. Achilles had no idea, either, but he chose not to let that on.

“We’ll make ornaments,” Patroclus answered. He shoved the fir tree onto the ground; Achilles stepped back quickly.

“Warning would’ve been nice,” Achilles shot up at him. Patroclus leapt to the ground, the thin layer of snow crunching under his feet when he landed. He slipped his gloved hand into Achilles’ and kissed his cheek before turning to look at the tree on the ground in front of them. Achilles could never stay mad at him for very long.

 

_December 4th_

“That is _not_ what gingerbread is supposed to taste like,” Achilles insisted. Patroclus frowned down at the plate, then dug in his pocket for the recipe he had scribbled down. He smoothed out the paper and read it carefully.

“I think I did it right,” Patroclus disagreed. He looked over at the ingredients lining the messy, flour-coated counter. “I had everything.”

“Something’s clearly wrong. It doesn’t even taste like ginger,” Achilles assured him. He looked into the cookie he had just taken a bite of. “There’s too much of something else. There’s powder in here.”

Patroclus took the little gingerbread man out of Achilles’ hand and bit the poor thing’s arm off. He coughed and looked down at the recipe again, his eyes quickly scanning the incomprehensible scratches he called words.

“ _Oh_ ,” he exclaimed suddenly, realization dawning on his face. “I misread the recipe.”

“What did you do?” Achilles asked suspiciously. Patroclus had already abandoned the failed batch and was returning to his ingredients.

“I put in 12 teaspoons of cinnamon instead of 1 teaspoon of cinnamon and 2 teaspoons of ginger,” Patroclus answered nonchalantly, like this was a mistake made every day. Achilles laughed at him until Patroclus smeared flour across his face.

 

_December 7th_

“Why do I have to wear this?” Achilles asked, tugging at the ridiculous sweater he was wearing. Patroclus smacked his hand away.

“Because Briseis made them for us,” Patroclus answered, settling the camera into position on the tripod. “Besides, I like them.”

“You _would_ like them,” Achilles mumbled, pulling at his sleeve. Patroclus leaned over and smacked his hand away again. Achilles scowled at him. “Why do we need a Christmas card, anyways? We don’t know that many people.”

“We know a lot of people, and they all expect cards,” Patroclus argued, without even looking up, his eyes trained on the screen on the camera. “Move over to the left a little bit, please.”

Achilles shuffled to the left.

“Who needs a card from us? My mother, my father. Your father. Briseis. _Maybe_ Odysseus.” Achilles kicked at the carpet under his socked feet. “We can just go _see_ them.”

“We know far more people than that, and you know it,” Patroclus murmured. He set the timer on the camera. “It’s going to take ten pictures for us, and we’ll have a few seconds in between each one, so let’s try to make at least _one_ of them usable, okay?”

“Okay, fine,” Achilles conceded. Patroclus hit the shutter-release button and hurried to Achilles’ side, tugging the sweater he was wearing down into place. He slipped his hand into Achilles’; Achilles was looking down at their hands when the first flash went off. Patroclus laughed.

“Look at the camera, please,” Patroclus teased. Achilles looked at him, and the next flash went off. Patroclus glanced up at him. “You’re not paying attention.”

“I am,” Achilles replied. He released Patroclus’ hand, ignored his sound of protest, and wrapped his arm around Patroclus’ waist. The flash went off. He tugged Patroclus close and kissed his cheek. Patroclus laughed. The flash went off.

“None of these are going to be usable!” Patroclus exclaimed. Achilles grinned and kissed his mouth.

“We’ll take new ones,” Achilles replied. The flash went off. He kissed Patroclus again, using the hand on Patroclus’ waist to bow his body to his own, and the flash went off. Patroclus’ hands framed his face, holding their mouths together as he tilted his head. The flash went off a seventh time. Achilles shifted, stepping away so he could pull Patroclus’ sweater off over his head. The flash went off. Patroclus got stuck, his wrists caught behind his back in the sweater, and Achilles smiled into his neck. The flash went off. Achilles backed Patroclus up against the wall behind them, and Patroclus’ head banged against the wall when he tossed it back. The flash went off one last time.

“That was the last one,” Patroclus told him breathlessly. Achilles just tugged off his own sweater. A couple of the first ones were okay; they ended up using the one where Achilles had his hand on Patroclus’ waist, and his lips on his cheek, and Patroclus was laughing. Achilles included a couple copies of the pictures where Achilles was pulling Patroclus’ sweater off in the thank-you note Patroclus sent Briseis.

 

_December 10th_

“What on Earth are you doing?” Achilles asked, watching as Patroclus filled the shallow bowl with water. He suspended a piece of wire across the rim of the bowl; upon closer inspection, Achilles could see a small wooden cross hanging from the wire. It had a sprig of basil wrapped around it. Eventually, Patroclus answered.

“I’m warding away the Killantzaroi,” he replied. He dipped the cross and basil into a separate bowl of holy water and sprinkled a little bit of the water onto the ground.

“Excuse me?” Achilles asked, confused. Patroclus kept his eyes on what he was doing as he moved to the next room to sprinkle water there, too. Achilles followed.

“We have to do this once a day,” Patroclus informed him. “It keeps the evil spirits away during this season.” He was quiet for a moment. “My mother used to do this.”

Achilles watched as Patroclus dipped the cross and basil into the holy water again. He stepped up and pressed a kiss into Patroclus’ temple.

“It’s a Greek tradition,” Patroclus explained. “How else are we going to keep the Killantzaroi away?”

“I have no idea, so it’s a good thing I have you,” Achilles replied. Patroclus sprinkled a bit of water onto the floor of the kitchen.

 

_December 13th_

“Again, we know a total of three people, at most,” Achilles reminded him. Patroclus hummed in acknowledgement as he picked through the embroidered stockings. “Why do we need to get gifts? I thought you said the Christmas season was about more than that.”

“It is,” Patroclus responded. “But it’s still a part of it.” He frowned at the stockings. “They don’t have Andy’s name.”

“What, you’re surprised they don’t have _Lysandra_ on a stocking?” Achilles teased. Patroclus glanced up at him.

“Good to know your quick wit hasn’t softened in the past couple of hours,” Patroclus said, almost sincerely, but not quite, before turning his attention back to the stockings. “I can always stitch it myself, I suppose.”

“Great, who next?” Achilles said, clapping his hands together, Patroclus pulled out his list.

“We still need a couple more things for Andy,” Patroclus informed him, his eyes skimming the page. “And-”

Achilles groaned. “ _No_. No ‘and’. Let’s go home.”

“Or we can finish our Christmas shopping,” Patroclus countered. Achilles looked over his shoulder at the list. “Why don’t you go find a gift for your mother? She won’t like anything I get for her, anyways.”

Achilles, finally having a mission, was off like a shot, gone before Patroclus could blink. Patroclus just sighed and started towards the little dresses.

 

_December 16th_

“Daddy!” Andy exclaimed, throwing herself into Patroclus’ arms as soon as Briseis set her on the ground. Achilles rolled his eyes; Patroclus raised an eyebrow at him, even as he lifted Andy up into the air.

“How are you today?” Patroclus asked, settling Andy on his hip and taking her inside. He tugged her winter hat off, letting her dark hair tumble out around her shoulders.

“Good,” Andy answered. She yanked her own mittens off her hands, and they dangled by the string pulled through her coat. “Mama says we’re coming here for Christmas.”

“She’s right,” Patroclus said. Achilles was hanging Briseis’ coat up for her by the door, and Patroclus set Andy down on the floor to pull her out of her own coat. “Are you excited for Christmas?”

“ _Yes!_ ” Andy replied emphatically. “What did you ask for from Santa?”

“I think I’ve got everything I want,” Patroclus said, smiling. He touched his nose to Andy’s, and she laughed. “Why don’t you ask Achilles if you can have a gingerbread cookie?”

“But the last one was bad,” Andy responded suspiciously. Achilles laughed and swept her up onto his shoulders.

“He’s gotten better at it, I tested them for you,” Achilles assured her. Andy threaded her fingers through his hair and held on tightly as he carried her into the kitchen. Briseis shut the front door behind her and came up to Patroclus to kiss him on the cheek.

“Is Achilles okay with us coming over for Christmas?” Briseis asked. Patroclus nodded and started walking, waiting for her to follow his lead.

“You know he is,” Patroclus reminded her. “Why are you worried?”

“Because it’s a lot to ask, Patroclus,” Briseis said, playing with the leather bracelet around her wrist. “You _know_ it is. He shouldn’t have to share his first Christmas with you with us, too.”

“It’s not like we’re exes,” Patroclus pointed out.

“It’s still his first Christmas with you.”

“And you’re still our best friend.”

“Normal couples don’t have their best friend coming over for their first Christmas with-”

“Are you worrying again?” Achilles asked, reappearing in the entryway. Patroclus stopped at his side; Andy watched them curiously, a gingerbread man held tightly in her hands. She took a small bite out of his leg. “Briseis, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have said it’s fine if it wasn’t fine.”

“Mistletoe!” Andy suddenly shrieked, startling them all. She was pointing above their heads. Patroclus tipped his head back.

“So it is,” Patroclus commented. “Well spotted, Andy. What does that mean?”

“It means you have to kiss,” Andy informed him. Patroclus returned his attention to Achilles, who was smiling like he just won a million dollars.

“I guess, if we _have_ to,” Achilles said. Patroclus rolled his eyes and leaned in, and Achilles wrapped one arm around Patroclus’ waist, the other hand going up to cradle the back of his head as he dipped him dramatically low and kissed him deeply. Andy laughed.

 

_December 19th_

“I’m telling you, I have no idea how to do this,” Achilles shouted as Patroclus sped by. Patroclus turned on the bend and returned to his side. He bent his arm, and Achilles tucked his hand through it, holding onto him for balance. “I don’t know why you wanted to do this.”

“Because it’s fun,” Patroclus answered. “People love to ice-skate.”

“ _People._ Not me.” Achilles took a tentative step. “Goddamnit, why is this so _slippery_?”

“It’s ice,” Patroclus reminded him. “Do you want me to call Briseis? Andy could give you a lesson.”

“I hate you.” In direct contradiction to his words, Achilles clung tighter to Patroclus’ arm, and Patroclus laughed.

“Just watch me,” Patroclus insisted. He pulled himself free of Achilles and took off, doing a lap around the rink before stopping at Achilles’ side. “See? It’s not so bad.”

It took him a couple of tries, but Achilles got the hang of it, just like he got the hang of everything. He was speeding around the rink in no time, challenging Patroclus to races and spins and all sorts of games. Patroclus finally just had to push him down onto a bench and kiss him breathless to calm him down.

 

_December 21st_

“It’s _freezing_ out here,” Achilles exclaimed as soon as he stepped out the door. Patroclus shut the back door behind them and locked it.

“It’s the first day of winter,” Patroclus reminded him. “That’s why we’re going for a walk. In the snow. For the solstice. We _just_ discussed this-”

“But it’s _so cold_ ,” Achilles interrupted, turning to Patroclus. Patroclus just shoved his hand into Achilles’ and led him out to the dense woods behind their house.

“The moon’s full tonight,” Patroclus commented, ignoring Achilles’ complaints. Achilles let his gloved hand warm up in Patroclus’. Patroclus kept an eye on his feet, making sure not to trip over the roots; Achilles looked up, watching the moon that Patroclus was speaking so fondly of. “It’s going to make everything bright and beautiful.”

“It’s snowing,” Achilles pointed out. “There’s clouds, you can’t see the moon.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not bright.” Patroclus finally found a path for them to walk through, their path dimly illuminated by the faint light of the full moon. “See? We have a way to go. And we know our way back. It’ll be fine.”

Silence reigned for a little while. Until-

“Why are we going on a walk?” Achilles asked. Patroclus stopped in his tracks and tugged Achilles close enough to kiss. He opened his mouth and kept Achilles’ hands trapped in his own. When he finally pulled back, Achilles’ breathless gasps were smoke in the cold air.

“Because I love you, and it’s snowing, so enjoy yourself,” Patroclus answered. Achilles nodded and let Patroclus pull him along.

 

_December 24th_

“Milk and cookies?” Patroclus asked, perched on the edge of Andy’s bed as he tucked the covers up around her chest. Andy nodded.

“Check,” she answered. Patroclus pretended to think.

“Key for the door?”

“Check.”

“Carrots for the reindeer?”

“Check.”

“Fireplace’s out so Santa doesn’t burn to a crisp?” Achilles asked, passing by the door of Andy’s makeshift bedroom in the guest room. Andy immediately sat up, distressed.

“I didn’t put out the fire!” Andy exclaimed. “Santa’s gonna burn to a crisp!”

“Santa’s not going to burn to a crisp,” Briseis assured her from the corner, where she was putting Andy’s toys into her little toy chest.

“But Achilles _said_ -”

“Achilles says a lot of dumb things,” Patroclus reminded her. Achilles reappeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“I resent that,” Achilles said. He came into the room and kissed the top of Patroclus’ head. He moved to stand by the dresser, hovering by the door, unsure of his place. Briseis stood beside him. “I was just kidding, Andy. I’ll make sure the fire’s out. Santa’s safe.”

“Thanks, Achilles,” Andy replied. Her eyes flickered down to the book next to Patroclus on the bed. “We have to read the story, Daddy.”

“Of course,” Patroclus answered. He opened the picture book. “ _‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house/Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…_ ”

He got all the way to “a wink of his eye and a twist of his head” before Andy was asleep, which was a new record for her. He kissed the top of her head and left the book with Briseis before returning with Achilles to their bedroom.

“How does the story end?” Achilles asked, as he was changing into the Christmas pajamas Patroclus had gotten for them. Patroclus looked up from the buttons on his shirt.

“Oh, uhm…” Patroclus thought for a moment. “Santa leaves the gifts, and smiles to the man, and leaves. He wishes them a merry Christmas as he goes.”

“I’ve never heard that poem before,” Achilles answered. Patroclus took Achilles’ hands in his own and kissed his neck.

“I’m going to make this your best Christmas ever,” Patroclus murmured against his skin. Achilles tipped his head to the side, and Patroclus sighed.

“You already have,” Achilles assured him, tightening his grip on Patroclus’ hands.

 

_December 25th_

“It’s Christmas!” Andy exclaimed, jumping on their bed at five o’clock in the morning. Achilles groaned and rolled over onto her, trapping her under him.

“How dare you awaken me?” Achilles grumbled into her ear. Andy shoved at him until he rolled back onto his side.

“You gotta wake up! Santa came!” Andy shouted in Patroclus’ ear. He sighed and sat up. Andy turned to Achilles and started tugging at his pajama top. “Come _on_. Let’s _go_.”

Achilles stood, letting Andy grab his hand and pull him all the way to the living room, where Briseis was already waiting, three mugs of coffee on the coffee table in front of her. Achilles fell onto the sofa beside her; Patroclus sprawled out on the floor.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Achilles breathed as Briseis pushed one of the mugs into his hands. Briseis laughed.

“I’m adjusted,” she replied. Achilles sipped at the coffee as Andy hurried around, sorting the presents under the tree into four stacks, one for each of them.

“Are you ready?” Patroclus asked, unearthing his camera to take a video of Andy as she started opening her gifts. Achilles moved to sit behind him, and Patroclus settled against his chest, his head resting under Achilles’ chin. Achilles kissed his temple.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Achilles responded. Patroclus tipped his head back, and he could see the Christmas tree right behind Achilles, and he grinned.

“Me, too.” Patroclus pushed up a little bit to kiss him. The rest of the day went more or less as planned; they had a small early dinner with Briseis and Andy before they left to go to her parents’ house, then another dinner later when Patroclus’ father and Achilles’ mother and father came over. That only lasted so long before everyone was gone, and Achilles and Patroclus were alone by nine o’clock. The two of them settled on the couch in front of the fireplace, Achilles sitting up, Patroclus curled around him. Patroclus was half-asleep when Achilles spoke.

“I got you something,” Achilles informed him. Patroclus tipped his head up.

“I thought we agreed to no gifts,” Patroclus replied, dropping his head down again. He yawned.

“I know you got me something, don’t play dumb,” Achilles said. Patroclus sat up and stretched his arms above his head. “You never listen.”

“Neither do you,” Patroclus replied. He stood from the sofa and retrieved the gift from underneath the chair. Achilles just reached under the cushion beside him and pulled out his gift. “Lazy.”

“Clever,” Achilles countered, beckoning Patroclus back. Patroclus reclaimed his seat, settling along Achilles’ side. He placed the box on his lap. “What is it?”

“Just open it,” Patroclus murmured. Achilles set his gift for Patroclus aside and tugged the wrapping paper off of his gift. He opened the box and pulled out the worn watch inside. Patroclus watched as Achilles examined it with interest. “It was my grandfather’s. He gave it to my mother, who gave it to me. Now, it’s yours.”

“I can’t accept this,” Achilles said softly. Patroclus took the watch from his hands and fastened it around Achilles’ wrist.

“Of course you can, it’s yours,” Patroclus replied. He turned the watch so the face was settled correctly on Achilles’ wrist. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Achilles said, catching Patroclus’ lips. He pulled away after a moment, and he handed Patroclus his gift. “Open it.”

Patroclus opened the lid of the box to reveal a thin leather necklace with a seashell at the end. He lifted it up carefully.

“It’s not a ring yet,” Achilles murmured, taking it from Patroclus’ hands and fixing it around his neck. “But it’s a placeholder. Until then.”

Patroclus dropped his head back against Achilles’ shoulder when the necklace was clasped. Achilles brushed the boxes off of their laps and accepted the kiss from Patroclus.

“I love you,” Patroclus murmured. He was always better with words, Achilles thought. “Merry Christmas.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicoIodeon](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
